


oh it was a funny little thing, to be, the ones, to have seen

by livii



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-08
Updated: 2005-08-08
Packaged: 2017-10-08 14:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livii/pseuds/livii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones. Sorted one after each other, careful as you please</p>
            </blockquote>





	oh it was a funny little thing, to be, the ones, to have seen

**Author's Note:**

> For femgenficathon 2005. Prompt: "You never conquer a mountain. You stand on the summit a few moments; then the wind blows your footprints away." ~ Arlene Blum
> 
> Thanks to hansbekhart for the excellent beta work, and dawnzabini for the offer to help. Title and two lyrics from Joanna Newsom's album _The Milk-Eyed Mender_.

There are two sides to every story; there's always a push and a pull, creation and oblivion, now and never.

Could you tell who would choose which side?

Could you even tell us apart?

In the end, it wouldn't matter nearly as much as either of them thought it would. And it also mattered more than anyone could ever tell.

\------------------------------------

**You**

Hannah: a pink-faced blonde. Prefect. Member of Dumbledore's Army. The first to crack under the pressure.

Susan: uncoloured, a plait. Not a prefect, a member of Dumbledore's Army all the same. A certain notoriety due to familial connections.

Sorted one after each other, careful as you please.

 

**Never**

Hufflepuffs: they're the salt of the earth, and they prop you up, but they're supposed to do it quietly.

She never thought she could be loud enough, but she _knew_ she couldn't be quiet enough.

 

**Conquer**

The battle raged fiercely, spells flying, ricocheting off the armaments, hitting friend and foe with equal abandon. The air was thick with crackling magic, as well as the smoke and stench of using _Incendio_ against your enemies. This was what it had all come down to – one time, one space, us versus them, fighting for everything in the world.

Up above the fray, Albus Dumbledore and Lord Voldemort stood, each directing their troops, casting defensive spells, trying to keep their vision alive.

We were just soldiers, though willing ones. Though for who and why had been twisted beyond almost all recognition. So many moments leading up to this one. So many paths taken and roads not crossed and glittering rips in the fabric that were reached, that weren't reached. But we'd made it here.

And nothing had ever been as sweet to hear as "Susan, no!" and "Hannah, why?"

 

**A mountain**

She's read the Muggle magazines, watched a tee-vee show once; high school's supposed to be rough-and-tough, all about popularity and fitting in. She doesn't think they really have any fucking clue at all.

She knew Hogwarts wasn't for a girl like her, but she hadn't been prepared for the crushing anonymity anyway.

It's easy if you're on the Quidditch team; everyone loves an athlete. It's easier if you're a top student; at least people want help with their homework. It's even easier if you're the dumbest of them all; at least then people know who you _are_.

Anonymity and mediocrity burn, hissing away at her insides, never able to be resolved, for what's the (undefined) Hufflepuff (girl) to do?

 

**You**

Do _they_ even know yet?

 

**Stand**

Harry noticed her; that was a start. Not that she liked him, not _that_ way, but if Harry knew who you were, other people did too.

Harry noticed _her_; that was a start. She couldn't stand to see her lagging behind, bringing her down as well, in a way. Even if she was only hanging on by the skin of her teeth.

She realized, later, that it was all bullshit; she was being defined, _again_, by someone else, reflected in their eyes. Sometimes she would hold her hand up to the sunlight, imagining you could see through it, the rays piercing through her skin in a million tiny points of light to make her glow, bright and shining and yet completely invisible to all who looked. She really didn't know why.

 

**On the summit**

"Yes, my Lord."

"Yes, Dumbledore."

"I will do as you ask, my Lord."

"I will do as you wish, Dumbledore."

They had a mission; they had a purpose and a task to be done or die trying.

They were both incredibly important.

And who they were didn't matter one whit, not their House, not their gender, not their name. Just the job. So they carried it out, as Hufflepuffs do, as _good girls_ do, fulfilling their tasks, careful as you please.

She thought that there could be nothing better.

 

**A few moments**

She's out on the town, living while she can, slipping bit by bit as she goes.

She tries Chinese. She can't quite work the chopsticks and is startled by the complexity of the hot and sour soup, but loves the crunchy bean sprouts and the sticky rice and the crispy beef.

She took Divination; she didn't. It's a waste of time; it just might turn out to be right, so why not give it a chance?

She reads her fortune. She wishes she didn't believe in Divination; she wishes she did.

_We pray and suspend the notion that these lives do never end._

 

**Then -- The wind**

They sit and talk for hours, rushing through their lives but examining each detail, each shiny bauble and dark shadow and missing thread.

They wonder when they started talking to each other at all, and why they never had before.

They're chilled by change, and warmed by possibility.

Neither turns out to be real.

 

**Blows**

She's knocked out, down for the count, beaten and battered and broken.

She's there with him, there and there and then it's not what she expected, and she gets nothing.

She wanted to win it all; she wanted her fight to be enough, to be able to get there on her own two feet, proving herself and her worth.

She would have done anything to get to the top, but this is just backsliding, always scrabbling to get a hold, always giving but never receiving a drop in return.

She's never been lower. She's never lost so much. She realizes that it's a miracle she had anything to lose at all.

 

**Your footprints**

She remembers: the Sorting Hat, seeing her decency and strength and common sense.

She remembers: the Sorting Hat, telling her of Helga and the glories she could find through steady application of her many talents.

She relives, over and over: making her choice. Thinking she'd taken the different path. Thinking she'd taken the right path. Ending up in the same goddamn fucking place anyway.

She forgets: standing up.

She never knew: what she could be.

 

**Away.**

It's still the same old story: quiet girl, undefined, tries for great things, doesn't quite make it, is forgotten by all but a few.

But: she used her voice.

But: she tried to be someone.

But: she was there.

This is not my tune, she thinks. But it's mine to use.


End file.
